


Rumor In St. Petersburg

by olddarkmachine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble, M/M, conman keith, hunk/keith friendship, secretly a lost prince shiro, so i guess technically conman hunk too lol, the anastasia au literally no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13384926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: “We’ll find someone to be the prince.” Tone colored a particular shade of certain, Keith continued to walk, eyes tracking the once glorious palace walls, making note of the gouges and scratches that marked them after the raid the eliminated the royal family.Or rather, most of the royal family.If the rumors were correct, one member might still be alive. The long lost prince, who had escaped with his mother, only to be tragically lost in the chaos of escape was said to still be somewhere. Keith, himself, was a bit more of a pessimist and believed the prince to be long gone. And even if he wasn’t, there was a reason the man hadn’t resurfaced.But the people of loved a good rumor, and Keith loved a good con.Really, it was a match made in heaven.A Sheith drabble set to the tune of Anastasia





	Rumor In St. Petersburg

**Author's Note:**

> So.... I woke up with A Rumor In St. Petersburg stuck in my head? Which, was kind of alarming since I haven’t seen Anastasia in a good minute. But it got me thinking about an Anastasia AU and well. I decided to use it as a quick little warmup. ~~ya know since im sposed to be finishing up my yakuza children’s story...~~

The wind howled a high pitched tone that echoed off the walls of the old palace, its keen wrapping itself around Keith as he walked through the hall. Dust had settled in a thick veil over the mahogany furniture, making them ghosts of their former glory as they stood like abandoned guards. It would have been eerie if Keith hadn’t purposefully sought it out, his shoes barely making noise against the dulled carpet as he continued his stroll, thumb under his chin and forefinger balanced on his bottom lip in thought.

“And what if we don’t find someone to be the prince?” A companionable voice asked, breaking through his thoughts and joining the harsh sound of the wind. Without turning to face the man behind him, knowing full well the look he’d be greeted with if he did. Hunk would never outright say any of Keith’s cons would fail, instead opting to poke and nudge him towards the conclusion until he thought he’d come up with it on his own.

The problem was, that hardly ever stopped him.

 _You’re going to be the death of us both_ , he had said with a sigh right after their last con had ended with them both just barely escaping arrest, just as they had both known it would.

 _Come on, Hunk, you’re the one that said I should work for it_ , Keith had smiled, pulling the wads of money they’d managed to get before being found out.

 _Not the work I meant, buddy_ , Hunk had retorted, pulling his own handful of bills from his pocket, returning the smile.

Chuckling lowly, Keith shook his head to clear the memory, lowering his hand as he gestured this way and that with his reply.

“We’ll find someone to be the prince.” Tone colored a particular shade of certain, Keith continued to walk, eyes tracking the once glorious palace walls, making note of the gouges and scratches that marked them after the raid the eliminated the royal family.

Or rather, most of the royal family.

If the rumors were correct, one member might still be alive. The long lost prince, who had escaped with his mother, only to be tragically lost in the chaos of escape was said to still be somewhere. Keith, himself, was a bit more of a pessimist and believed the prince to be long gone. And even if he wasn’t, there was a reason the man hadn’t resurfaced.

But the people of loved a good rumor, and Keith loved a good con.

Really, it was a match made in heaven.

The dowager empress herself was offering a hefty reward for anyone that could bring her grandson to her, and Keith was going to make it happen. Even if he had to handcraft a grandson for her himself.

“I’m just saying, the auditions haven’t exactly been going well,” Hunk stated, his steps picking up as he jogged forward a couple paces to reach Keith’s side. Out of the corner of his gaze, he saw the way his best friend’s dark stare pondered him. He was right, of course. None of the men that had turned up were passable. Most either too old, too young, or just too wrong to pass as the lost prince.

After their final audition— a rather portly man with a thick accent and a thicker waistline— Hunk had asked how they would know who would be the right man to play the part, curiosity cutting straight down to Keith’s bones. At the time, he’d brushed it off with an easy “We’ll just know,” placating his best friend long enough for them to make their way through the abandoned palace to pick up props for their con.

What he hadn’t mentioned were the eyes, touched by silver and moonlight that haunted his dreams. How could he tell Hunk that he would know, because he’d known the prince once? Had befriended him, even though he had been nothing but the rabble? How could he tell Hunk that he’d fallen into the trap of hope offered by his own con?

“We’ll just keep trying, Hunk,” Keith soothed, throwing an arm over his shoulders as he pulled him into his side, his hand ruffling his chocolate hair quickly. “We’ll find a pr—”

A soft humming sound snatched the remainder of his words as it laced itself delicately through the sound of the wind as they crossed the threshold of the hall onto the balcony overlooking a grand ballroom. In the middle of the floor, kneeled a man, his broad back towards them where he rested on a knee in a one-sided bow.

The pose was hardened with surety as the stranger’s shoulders heaved with unknown effort. It looked well practiced. More importantly, it looked regal.

“Hey!” Keith yelled, pulling away from Hunk quickly as he launched himself towards the dull banister, his hands nearly slipping on the slick dust as he leaned over it to stare down at the man. Head snapping up quickly, the man shot a glance over his shoulder, eyes widening before he propelled himself out of the bow and towards the stairs on the opposite end of the room.

“Wait!” He called, ignoring Hunk’s own outburst as he took to the stairs, feet making quick work of them before he gave up altogether and jumped over the railing. Landing with a soft thud, Keith continued his pursuit, calling out to the stranger as he fought to keep his shoes from slipping on the marble tile beneath his feet. Before him, he watched the stranger as he faltered at the top of the steps as he yelled another halt.

Closer, Keith could see the tensed line of the man’s shoulders beneath the dusky brown leather of his jacket. Head dropping back slightly to look up at the large portrait portraying the royal family, the stranger’s moment of awe gave him just enough time to catch up.

“You!” Keith huffed as he pointed up at the man just as he turned to face him. Lightning cracked his sternum in half as he looked up at the man. A single line of light streamed through the window above them, lancing through the air and cutting itself across the portrait, just over the painted silver of the young prince’s eyes and across the stranger’s own peculiar gaze. Caught in his eyes, was the same color of the sky after a tempest, lit by the very same lightning strike that had stolen the breath straight from his lungs.

“Stop!” Hunk’s voice was booming, if somewhat breathless, as he caught up with Keith, both his arrival and shout coming just a few moments too late. Placing his hands against his knees, he leaned forward, drinking in deep breaths.

“Hunk,” Keith hissed, pushing the short sound through his teeth as he kept his eyes trained on the stranger, blindly smacking at his friend’s shoulder until he looked up. “Look.”

The moment spread itself between the three of them as the stranger regarded them with closed off curiosity before Hunk straightened himself up, eyes widening as he openly stared back.

“Keith,” he breathed, voice filled with bewilderment as he caught the same line of thought. Recognition set itself bright in the depths of the stranger’s tempered eyes as he heard the name.

“Are you Keith?” He asked, tone hopeful as he took a step forward, breaking the spell of the light and setting Keith free. Collecting himself, Keith threw his shoulders back as he set his chin forward in a near cocky manner, pushing his chest out in full confidence as he made his way up the stairs toward him.

“That really depends,” he said as he closed the distance between them, swallowing down the feeling that was pressing itself through his chest and up his throat. The stranger’s stare tightened as he cocked his head to the side, watching Keith closely as he made his way up the stairs.

“Depends on what?” His question was clipped, surrounded by steel walls erected in a matter of moments.

“On who’s asking,” Keith breathed, cresting over the last step and finally getting a better look of the man. This close, he could see the way his eyes were a little less like silver, and a lot more like heated steel.

“My name’s Shiro, and I’m looking for travel papers,” the stranger— Shiro— said, shoulders drawing back as he looked at Keith defiantly. Humming in acknowledgement, he began to make his way around the man, tracing the solid line of his shoulders, and the long figure of his body. Returning back to standing in front of him, he allowed his amethyst stare to track the length of the scar that stretched over the bridge of his nose.

His fingers twitched at his side as he pondered what the raised flesh might feel like.

“Yeah,” he finally said, shoving his hand into his pocket instead as he took a small step back. “I have some travel papers.”

“Keith,” Hunk rumbled behind him in warning as the corner of Shiro’s mouth twitched upward.

“The problem is,” he continued, gesturing with his other hand towards the painting at Shiro’s back, “That the papers I have are for the lost prince, Takashi Shirogane.”

The small semblance of a smile quickly flicked downward as Shiro turned to look at the painting, a small disappointed “oh” falling from his lips as he did so. With his back turned towards him, he didn’t see the quick look the two strangers exchanged before Keith sauntered up beside him.

“Want to hear the good news?” He asked, peering at the man out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he could swear he saw the quick flicker of a smirk. But maybe that was his own, wishful thinking.

“Sure, I could use some good news.” Turning his full attention to the man now, Keith smiled. It was the same, sharp crescent that hung itself high in the sky.

“You look an awful lot like the lost prince, Shiro.” At his side, he twirled his hand around, beckoning Hunk forward.

“Got the same eyes,” his friend pointed out, joining the duo at the top of the stairs as they looked up at the painting. “And you’ve got the same chin.”

“Aside from the hair and the scar,” Keith didn’t miss the way Shiro tensed as he gestured toward the white forelock and marred skin, “you look just like how the lost prince would look.”

Color dusted the high arcs of Shiro’s cheeks as he turned his head to look at Keith, his stormy gaze pinning him beneath a rainstorm.

“So you want me to lie.” It was weighted like a statement, not a question.

“Where are you from, Shiro?” Keith asked, abruptly changing the direction of the conversation and earning an inquiring look from both the man he spoke to, and his best friend. Shifting his gaze from Shiro’s to Hunk’s just quick enough for the latter to see but not the former to notice, Keith gaze a barely perceptible shake of his head.

 _Wait and see_.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, the truth slipping off his tongue so quietly, it was nearly whipped away by the sound of the wind outside. As he looked away, Keith flicked another glance toward Hunk.

 _See_.

“I don’t remember much,” Shiro continued, hands curling into fists as he looked up at the portrait of the royal family once more. A deep sorrow etched itself into the lines of his frown, sending Keith’s heart stammering against his ribs. “But I know I’m not meant to stay here.”

“So then, how do you know it’s a lie?” The question came from Hunk, as he threw an arm over Shiro’s shoulders, his bright smile fixated on him as he pulled the man into his side. Quiet fell over the trio as they awaited Shiro’s answer. Keith watched the war that raged within the man as different emotions pulled themselves across his face, contorting it until it finally settled into an open look of hope.

Looking up at the painting, he looked every bit the lost prince that Keith had once known.

“Okay,” he breathed, lips barely parting as he spoke the word. “What do you need me to do?”

A smile wrought by the devil himself split Keith’s features as he added his arm over Hunk’s in a side hug, ignoring the way another crack of lightning cleaved his chest in two. He felt the way Shiro eased into the touch, turning his full attention to him as he returned the smile. In it, he saw only open honesty, and most importantly, trust.

Good.

That was the first rule of any con.

_Make them believe the lie._

_****************************_


End file.
